The Day Newt Jumped
by Virus VC321xb47
Summary: The day Newt jumped from halfway up the maze wall in an effort to escape the place he hated most.


Running was the only thing that helped him calm down. You build up a lot of anxiety being stuck in what can only be described as an ever changing maze.

Newt didn't like to sit and think. Thinking hurt and the lack of memories always broke his heart. He'd see things in his life like other Gladers laughing and he'd start to remember. He'd know that he was supposed to be fondly reminiscing over a memory that his friends dug up, but the memory would never come. Newt would be left with a hollow feeling inside his chest, an ache he never truly could get over.

The day was unlike the others. Newt woke slowly and stared straight up at the sky. The walls stood out in his peripheral vision against the blue and a feeling of utter hopelessness began to consume Newt.

_"How long am I goin to be stuck in the bloody maze? How long are we going to last? How long will peace last in here when others start arriving, more people to look after? How is any of this ever going to work?"_

Thoughts slipped through his mind as he forced himself to sit up and prepare himself for a day in the maze. The maze that was always changing. The maze that would never be solved and that he would probably spend his days in until he died in. That maze.

He roughly shook his head and began the process of tying his shoes, grabbing his pack, and tried to distract himself while making his way towards Frypan's kitchen. He tried to crack a few jokes here and there but his heart wasn't in it today. There was a dark cloud looming over his head and no one seemed to noticed.

Newt stood before the walls on the North side and waited for the crunching that would signal the doors opening. He only had to stand for thirty seconds before the booming crack resonated through the glade and the crunching of rock against rock began. As soon as the opening was roughly 3 feet wide Newt swiftly took off.

He came up with a pace that satisfied his need for air and also the need to travel quickly. Newt loved to run, loved to hear the sound of his feet pounding against the ground, his light hair being tousled as he took every turn in stride.

Running couldn't stop the thoughts though. The reason he was running was always hanging in the back of his mind.

As Newt neared the end of his section he began to slow. Normally a runner wouldn't ever slow down, save for when they needed to drink a few sips of water or make light notes on paper, but Newt slowed and that was his first mistake.

Newt came to a full stop and leaned against the ivy covered walls. The dead end he had reached covered him in shade and he was thankful for that, but only that. What else did he have to be thankful for really? He was trapped in a shuck maze with other boys who were just as scared as he was. He woke up early every day and ran the maze, but for what? To eventually find a way out, he supposed, but what if they never found a way out? What if one day when all the runners put their notes together they realized they had run every inch of the maze in yet no exit had been found, then what? What would they do?

Newt couldn't stop the thoughts, they came fast and they made his heart beat hard and quick, fear enveloping his mind.

A fear of the unknown, a fear for the things that lurked in the maze, a fear of the maze itself.

He turned to the maze wall he had been leaning on and began pounding his fists against it. He could feel the rock cutting into his knuckles, could feel the ivy being crushed every time his fist connected with the wall. He took it all in and continued to abuse the wall till his breathing had evened out and tears threatened to spill over.

What was the point? Why run the maze everyday when there was no guarantee they'd ever find a way out? Why have one more person to worry about when there were countless others, when there were people who could do his job better than him, when there were people who actually had hope?

Newt closed his eyes and thought. He thought very hard about his place in the maze, about his place in the Glade.

He eventually came up with the thought that the only one who would really mind if he was gone was probably Alby, but then again he'd move on, get caught up in the new greenie that would arrive next month and forget all about that pour kid Newt who didn't come back one day.

The kid who's hope didn't last.

The other Gladers would take Newt as an example, a reason to never let the fear consume them lest they wanted to end up like him.

Minho would find new runners, better runners. Runners who could map faster and who's memory never faltered when drawing out the maze after returning for the night.

Newt's mind was made up.

He made a grab for the ivy that laid thick against the walls towering over him. He removed his pack, knowing well that upon impact with the floor of the maze the papers would crumple and the pencils would break and become useless.

The ivy proved strong as Newt grabbed vine after vine, making his way up the walls that had always towered over him, that loomed and watched him at all hours of the day. Walls you could never escape while you were **alive**.

It gave him a small feeling of satisfaction to be climbing to their level, no longer having them watching over him.

His muscles burned with the extra strength it took to hoist him up, already tired after running through the maze for hours on end. He reached up once more and steadied himself on the vines, finding horizontal hanging ones to place his feet on. Turning slowly so his back faced the wall while he held on tightly to the vines behind him, he looked out at the maze. It seemed to stretch on, endless.

"_I can't stay here anymore" _he thought,

"_I just can't._"

The floor of the maze was far below him, far enough that someone couldn't possibly live if they _happened_ to fall from this height, hitting the stone beneath them and smashing their bones causing mass internal bleeding when bone shards pierced their organs.

Newt looked up into the sky again, deciding it was a very nice day. The wind blew softly tossing his hair around his face. The maze looked even larger from his height and he remembered the sinking feeling of knowing he'd never escape this maze. Of knowing that no matter how far they ran, how much they mapped, or how long they stayed here they would never find a way out.

The sinking feeling consumed Newt and his limbs grew cold as he stood among the mass of vines. He felt his eyes prick and burn and watched the tears slip off his chin and make their way to the floor just like he would.

He didn't have any hope left; there was nothing to hope for really, except that he would die quickly when he hit the bottom. That he wouldn't have to lay agonizing on the ground until a Griever came round and ended it for him, because maybe he wasn't even good enough to end his own life properly.

With one final look around the maze, one more deep breath to attempt to help control the tears spilling over his eyes and down his face, he let go of the vines.

Newt tipped forward off the wall plummeting to the floor below, letting gravity do the honors of ending his suffering.

**I just really wanted some background on when Newt jumped off the wall so i just wrote it myself. if you guys want to see more? hit me up with ideas as to what should happen next because i m not sure which route to take just yet?**


End file.
